I have a list of things to do. The idea is to complete one task every week.
Normally it takes me more than a week, and sometimes tasks over lap. But it’s ok. It gives me perspective and at least I make progress in the span of weeks to months, rather than months to never.
The past few weeks have been my “put a song on soundcloud” and “put a video on YouTube ” weeks. But then I felt like writing a short story, and I thought I’d skip to “write a blog/short story”.
I started a short story but writer’s block hit me.
It hit me hard and gave me a nose bleed. My head’s been consistently hurting too. Or maybe that’s just my wisdom teeth growing out.
“Oh you’re finally getting wiser”, yeah…..no… It’s not I’ve never heard that before. I’m Desi. It’s Desi protocol to say these kind of things, but they always forget that a million people would have already said that before them. I guess they hope to be the first.
Other things I expect to hear and have heard from a Desi because I am… me:
“Anushka? Like Anushka Sharma?” (My name is Anushka Abraham, hi.) She’s a relatively new Indian actress and at one point, we both had short hair. I still haven’t grown my hair. Ha! Beat you to it Ms. Sharma!
“Are you a boy or a girl?” Apparently I’m way too flat-chested and for them to see the difference and apparently my sex really matters.
“Why short hair?”
“Are you Sri Lankan? Where you from?” – that’s a complimentary question because when my hair was longer , it was impossible to be racially ambiguous , but now, now I have slightly better chance. I was even asked if I was Ethiopian! So cool! (No, I do enjoy my culture, I just am a wannabe superhero)
Right, so list of things to do, writer’s block, da da dum…dee dee doo…. The pain began to subside and I sat down.
I forget to breathe through my nose, so I did. I forget to just sit and not do anything, so I did. That didn’t last long, but that’s ok.
I began to think about the people in my life. And now I’m here. Clearly I settled on the “Write a blog” part.
It has been 10 years since I moved to the UAE and earned the company of some beautiful people. Through my last year of school and university I was graced by the presence of some crazy, quirky, intelligent and simply good people.
10. That’s almost one-third of my life. It’s a big number to me….. (God, this is where the ultimate shitiness of my writing surfaces)
I know some of you have the privilege of speaking to the person you have known since you had tiny toes and big heads, almost everyday. My chuddy buddy (childhood bestie) is in my heart, no doubt. But our lives flow in parallel streams, and that’s ok. Once in a while there’ll be a crack in the ground and we will get to hi5 each other.
10 years. These wonderful people have been my constants. We (mostly they) have traveled, studied, worked abroad, but we’ve always somehow comeback and found some middle ground.
It’s comforting. I don’t take it for granted. I won’t check up on them day to day and they won’t know what I ate and how my day was. But it’s ok. I know them and they know me. We may reunite after weeks or months but we pick up where left off, as if we never left.
They are , family.
What would this place be with out the familiarity that they bring into my life? How would I look back at my time here when I leave?
It just wouldn’t be the same.
It couldn’t have been better.
It’s better than OK. This thought is just like that feeling I get when it’s that time of the day, when the sun isn’t too high, nor too low, but it’s dimmed just enough for me to look right at it without squinting.
Bright, warm, brilliant and welcoming.